Thursday, July 11, 2013

Destination Unknown

My husband and I are trying to figure out where to live.

We do, in fact, live somewhere now. A very nice little house in Los Angeles, as a matter of fact. Unfortunately, it is a 900 square foot, 2 bedroom house in which we are currently living with 4 other humans. So at some point in the not too distant future -- something is going to have to give.

I have a history as a bit of a nomad.

After I graduated from college I wanted to be a writer, and I thought the key to this would be moving to a location where I could work without a single distraction. So I did what at 21 seemed an entirely reasonable thing and put the names of half a dozen small towns in a hat, picked one, and promptly relocated to Santee, South Carolina, where I proceeded to live for several months in a cabin in the woods. 

From small town South Carolina I headed next to New Orleans; then to Portland, OR; Chicago, IL; Las Vegas, NV; San Francisco, CA; and Brooklyn, NY. I lived for varying stretches of time in each place, writing shows, doing odd jobs, and exploring what each town had to offer.

In 2001, I got my first TV writing job and headed west for Los Angeles. I figured I would spend a few years here, try my hand at a comedy writing career, and then move on again when something more interesting came up.

But as the years passed by in L.A. and I headed deep into my thirties, the urge to roam started to wane. I barely even noticed its absence, nor the fact that after I got married and had children out here, my wanderlust was quickly being replaced by a whole new desire to make a giant comfy nest for myself and my family.

The result of all of this was that several months ago I sat up in bed in a cold sweat, rocked by the realization that


And listen, I freely acknowledge that living in Los Angeles is not exactly a terrible fate. I mean, it's sunny here 340 days out of the year. We live in a wonderful neighborhood and have easy access to amazing museums, beautiful scenery, and super-fun, child-friendly activities. 

Plus sometimes I see Punky Brewster at the supermarket. WHICH IS AWESOME.

But for a whole host of reasons it is simply true that I don't actually want to be from Los Angeles. Because, among other things...

  • We have family in Texas, New York, and Chicago, and we want our kids to be closer to them.
  • I miss being a car ride away from the places we used to visit as kid, and I long for the warm, salty feel of the Atlantic coast.
  • Although I can say with absolute certainty that I do not miss the grey freezingness of February in New York, I do miss the seasons and feel an undeniable calling to have my children know from snow days, cocoa, and sledding hills. 
  • I hate not getting to see my team play live two Sundays every Fall.

  • I despair at what it is going to cost us in airfare to keep buying 5 airline tickets half a dozen times a year in order to keep up our current family-visiting schedule.

Are these good enough reasons to uproot our children, sell our home, and move thousands of miles away from our wonderful California-based life? 

Probably not.

But I'm pretty sure we're going to do it anyway.

How we are going to manage to sell a home, all of its contents, and get all five of us from one coast to another?

Well, that remains to be seen. Until then I'll simply update our current family status to

Destination: Unknown.